


Times Untold

by mozarteffect



Series: Of Galactic Proportions [2]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, Drabble Collection, Gen, OTWT, Other, in between scenes, we'll see where else it goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-04 04:04:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17891159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozarteffect/pseuds/mozarteffect
Summary: A collection of scenes in between the main chapters of Only Time Will Tell, they either did not fit the narrative or had to be shelved for one reason or another. Expect mostly daily life things and some bad attempts at comedy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Scenes kept nagging at me as something I wanted to show and share but I didn't want to kill anybody with filler, so there's this thing that's part of the series but not required reading unless you like extra stuff.
> 
> Prompt: "Okay but what actually happened when they visited the tailor?"

# The Time the Saiyans Met the Tailor

 

 

"Hi, nice to meet you, I'm Corduroy—call me Cordy—goddamn, Bulma was right, you guys are _stacked_."

The personal tailor for the Briefs family, a squat canine-like creature with tan fur, was the first time the Saiyans encountered the animal-type Earthlings. Yes, Nappa had seen "King Furry" as he was called on news broadcasts—a stately looking canine with dark blue fur and an inexplicable tuft of white fur under his nose mimicking a mustache. As expected for a king (but not a dog) he was wearing an impeccably tailored suit. They, like humans, had fingers and stood on two feet, appearing uncannily like humans in animal costumes rather than evolved animals, especially since they were capable of speech.

Corduroy (there was no way Vegeta was going to call him _Cordy_ ) had a sunny, energetic presence that he really didn't like, he was already taking out a tablet from one of his many vest pockets to scribble down something. "So, _obviously_ you're going to need your measurements taken, luckily for me this is all automated and I don't have to do the old scale mount gigantic bald guy with a measuring tape. Just strip down to your skivvies and go into that scanner, yeah?"

"No," Vegeta grunted. He didn't even know what skivvies _were_ but assumed it was jargon for undergarments. He was not stripping in front of this…thing.

"Yeeeeah," Corduroy looked over the top of his tablet at him sardonically. "The less you bitch about this, the faster it gets done, Prince Prissy."

Bulma would probably not forgive him if he went and killed one of her staff.

By the time they finished and redressed (he would also not admit that it _did_ go fast) he could feel Bulma coming down the hall. The dog-man in the meantime had begun chattering again about types of "casualwear" (whatever the hell that was) they thought was their "style" (whatever that meant). "So, besides being stacked as hell, you guys must be pretty active, right? I'm thinking—" His ears perked up, Vegeta saw, twitched in the direction of the door before Bulma made her appearance. "Heyyyy, there she is!" Before any of the Saiyans could say anything, Corduroy and the woman met each other in the middle of the room, _hugging_ of all things. Bulma was smiling while the dog-man's tail was wagging.

"Hi, Cordy!" she greeted, casting a glance to the three. "How'd they do?"

"Well, you weren't exaggerating, they're stacked as hell, but I _should_ be able to get some things going for them at least before you bring the whole cavalcade in here."

Vegeta really didn't like being talked about as if he wasn't there.

"Hey, uh," Raditz broke into their conversation abruptly. "Why do you call him Cordy?"

Corduroy chuckled while Bulma rolled her eyes. "I was like, a year old and couldn't pronounce his name, okay? Sheesh."

"I like it," Nappa said, nodding as though it was a very serious topic.

Vegeta didn't. This was stupid and he wanted to leave. It was only Bulma directing a question to the tailor that inexplicably caught his interest: "Okay, so why did you call me here, Cordy? If it was to catch a glimpse of our friends here in their underpants—one, too late and two, I've already seen most of it."

_Vulgar woman!_

"Ehhh, no, it was about your gala outfit."

Gala? One of those ridiculous parties the Briefs family attended, no doubt.

Bulma already looked exhausted at the thought, much to Corduroy's visible dismay. "Honey, what _happened_ out in space? Did it kill your sense of fun? We've been working on Dancing Queen for like, ever."

How strange he titled it as if it was a piece of art and not just _clothing_. Whatever it was had nothing to do with any of the Saiyans, who took their leave as the Earthlings further engaged in conversation.

Later on in his room, Vegeta found a capsule that contained sets of clothing fitted to his size. They ranged from activewear to more casual Earth outfits in neutral or dark blue colors. That was fine, nothing stood out as particularly objectionable.

Until Vegeta found among them a _pink_ button-up shirt that had the words "BADMAN" printed on the back in bold letters.

He tried to obliterate the offensive shirt with his ki.

No effect.

Rage.

_I'm going to kill that mutt!!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta has questions, part one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's more to this coming but these...these are first because they're the most, uh, awkward topics. So in case non-descriptive but frank talk about menstruation and vague discussion of sex isn't something you find humor in, don't worry, Vegeta's got more questions he probably shouldn't ask people in the second part.

#  The (First) Time Vegeta Asked Too Many Questions

 

 

Vegeta learned by observation, he rarely had need for a teacher or asking questions. This served him well enough for the past 20 years of his life and had the bonus of no annoying unnecessary conversations or people becoming _attached_.

It served him well, at least, until he began to associate with more people, then Vegeta found he only had _more_ questions that he couldn't figure out by observation. If he couldn't observe, he would have to ask, much to his chagrin and his first question was _very specifically_ an Earth thing.

Or, rather, an _Earthling_ thing—Bulma Briefs, of course, the one alien he could say he disliked least out of others. Since they began associating with each other in person, Vegeta began to notice that every month for a week or so Bulma would gain a scent that he was very familiar with. How she remained so pristine-looking otherwise while smelling strongly of blood he had _no_ idea and he could only conclude—

"Why don't you ever take me along on your slaughter weeks?" he asks Bulma on the dawn of his third day on Earth.

Bulma sputters, choking on her toast, thumping her chest and drinking orange juice at the same time. "My _what_?" she spits out after a good few seconds.

So she was going to _deny_ it then? Vegeta huffed, "Your _slaughter weeks_. When you bathe in the blood of your enemies. Don't try to pretend, I can smell blood _right now_."

He doesn't want to say outright he's offended she never asked him to come along for a round of senseless slaughter, but he's very offended and if it's not obvious to _her_ she's truly hopeless.

"Oh my god, Vegeta," Bulma gasps, practically toppling over in her haste to scrape her chair across the floor away from him. "That's not—that's not—"

"It's not _what_? If you're engaging in battles and not telling me—"

She grabs him by the ear and drags him out to the living room, from there she _somehow_ manages to bring in the other Saiyans along with a whiteboard and a couple of markers.

"Okay, idiots," Bulma says, decisively clicking open a red marker. "Here's how humans evolved in the most ass-backwards way possible."

 

"…You're telling me," Vegeta concludes when Bulma is finished with her _lengthy_ lecture, "Human women bleed for a week and don't die."

He's stunned, the other Saiyans in the room are awed or similarly shocked.

"Most women, yeah. Some are lucky enough to not have to deal with that. And _for some reason_ we evolved so our forbidden cities are _super_ hostile environments that even look at an egg that manages to implant as something to attack," she replies nonchalantly, wiping down the board.

He assumes "forbidden city" is a euphemism. He doesn't bother commenting on it as he's trying to corroborate the fact that humans are outwardly so frail but what should have been the simple act of _reproducing_ sounded like a fight.

"Can you like, shoot acid out of it?" Nappa asks, leaning forward and looking genuinely interested.

Bulma looks like she wants to say that she wishes that was the case, instead she purses her lips and capsulizes the board. "Anyway, Vegeta, _that's_ why you smell blood, I'm not secretly holding out on _slaughter weeks_ or whatever the hell you asked."

No, but it _sounds_ like a massacre is going on inside her body. It's shockingly easy to apply Saiyan sensibilities to the so-called evolutionary failures of humans, he can only conclude that human women are much stronger than their male counterparts. Bulma mutters to herself that it's damn embarrassing he could still _smell_ anything despite her washing as the other Saiyans filter out of the room. She curses herself that only _he_ would be shameless enough to outright _ask_ about something like that.

"Embarrassing?" he repeats her thought, crossing his arms. "Why? There's a battle going on inside of you and you're carrying on despite being wounded. Any proper warrior should respect that."

"Saiyans," she scoffs, rolling her eyes.

 

* * *

 

He doesn't usually ask Nappa questions, not anymore at least, the old man didn't _always_ change the subject to taunting him about vulgar topics but usually he did. Unfortunately, for once, Vegeta had a question about something vulgar.

Or, it _seemed_ to be considered a vulgar topic considering the lesser male's reaction to hearing the hag from Hell.

"What _is_ a maiden?" he asks Nappa while he's doing post-training cooldown.

Nappa, prodding at the soil of Mrs. Briefs' backyard flower patch, looks up at him. "You remember the 'virgin' conversation, Vegeta?" he replies simply.

"Yes, it continues to baffle me there's even a _word_ for that," Vegeta snorts.

The fixation on other peoples' sexual activity will always perplex him.

 _Nappa's_ fixation on _his own_ especially as it's none of the old man's business. He retrieves a plastic water-dispensing object and runs the water carefully over the patch of soil. "Wull…there's two definitions of maiden, right? Most common one is a girl that's a virgin."

He's noticed that Earth men have a particular fixation on how "pure" women are, too. It only justifies his opinion that Earth men are the most inferior of Earth species.

"Second is girl that's not married," Nappa continues, placing the water-dispenser back in its place. "So whichever definition that lady was using, either way our girls are screwed if those demons catch whiff of their blood."

"Don't say that." His lip curls in disgust at everything the old man said, he's not sure if he's telling Nappa to not refer to Bulma as " _our_ " anything or something else. "I can't believe aliens have _words_ for these concepts, that's completely absurd."

Aliens waste their time with the most frivolous things and he would have preferred to _never_ have the knowledge of their inanities. If only Nappa had never taken an interest in those asinine _plays_ he would take leave to watch, then he would never have started with the nonsense of teasingly calling Vegeta and Raditz both _virgins_.

The old man shrugs. "I still can't believe aliens are using _married_ now instead of _mated_."

Ever the old-fashioned one. Vegeta rolls his eyes at Nappa's priorities.

Nappa looks up from his strangely careful process of tending to the garden. "If you would hurry up and fuck Bulma already, you wouldn't have to think about it at all."

"Shut up, Nappa!"

He's never asking the old bastard about _anything_ again.

 

* * *

 

 

The next time Vegeta chooses to ask someone about a topic he has no experience in, he seeks out Tyber.

"Excuse me?" The sentimental Saiyan stares at him as though he had lost his mind, sat up straight at the borrowed desk in his room.

In retrospect, perhaps Vegeta shouldn't have essentially cornered the man in his room to demand answers. He seems busy.

But then again, Vegeta's the fucking Prince of all Saiyans and Tyber is a Saiyan, he should expect these things. And he certainly wasn't going to ask _Nappa_ about this sort of thing. "I believe you heard me correctly, I asked if it's usual to lose control of yourself when you're kissing someone."

He fled from Bulma after realizing _something_ was occurring that he had no control over was happening to him. _Something_ that made his stomach squirm and lit his skin aflame, his thoughts swirl around in a maelstrom of confusion that he could have easily lost himself in had he not escaped.

Tyber's head falls back, a long, exasperated sigh issues from his mouth. He looks exhausted, as usual. "You come into my room. To talk to me about how you got spooked by becoming aroused," he states, eyes closed and tone flat.

"I didn't become _spooked_ ," Vegeta defends himself, crossing his arms. He didn't. He could admit that about some things he was an absolute coward that ran away rather than dealing with it—

Ah, that's exactly what he did. Though Bulma _told him_ it was fine that he "wasn't ready." He didn't run away after all.

"Don't you have someone else to talk to about this, didn't _Nappa_ give you the sex talk when you were younger?" Tyber's tone becomes acidic as he turns to him, sharp eyes opening to stare judgmentally.

Actually, it wasn't judgmental, it was hatred and suspicion. All things Vegeta was used to and accepted, it certainly made more sense than the affection and trust Bulma gave him. "I'm not talking to Nappa about this, and you're the only other Saiyan with…experience in these matters."

It was some fucked up way of saying he's putting his faith in the older Saiyan _for this specific topic only_ and _nothing else_ , he supposes.

Tyber sighs again and stands up from his chair to properly face Vegeta. "Yes, it is, all right? I would have figured you would _already_ know that thing acts without you being able to control it sometimes, but I guess if you're _that_ much of a child—"

"I've noticed!" Vegeta snaps defensively. "Are you _seriously_ telling me there's no way to control it?"

"Besides cold showers and thinking about other things? No. But that's not even the question—listen, Vegeta, sex is a give and take, all right? _Ideally_ it is but I imagine with someone like you or your comrades," he gestures at the air, possibly to indicate wherever Raditz and Nappa might have been at that moment. "You'd just—" He breaks off, clapping a hand to his face. "Fuck."

"Is that a curse or a statement of what would happen?"

He doesn't answer. "You're not my son."

" _Obviously_ ," Vegeta sneers back. "I don't _have_ to be your son for discussing this. We're adults, aren't we?"

Tyber mumbles something, probably something disparaging that Vegeta would punish him for in any other context. "That's not something you can control, your body's got…urges, and reactions that are natural. Once you've accepted that, then you can—whatever you're doing with Bulma." He mutters to himself again, something about reminding Bulma about a birth control chip.

"—You gave her a _birth control chip_?"

"Before the trip to Orui. It's not that—well, no, I don't trust you at all. But I trust your discipline and restraint, it was _Bulma_ I was more worried about. Or at least I _was_ , now I'm not so sure."

"My restraint and discipline is _fine_ , accuse me of such a thing again and I'll be forced to show you your place."

Tyber only responds to the threat with a weary look. Damn. He really _was_ going to have to show him his place again if the officer was no longer showing fear at the threats. "At any rate, are we done yet? Are you satisfied?"

"I suppose," Vegeta sighs. The way he says it makes it sound like it's so straightforward, so simple, it's madness, pure madness. "Do you have anything else to tell me?"

He shakes his head, sitting back down at his desk and turning to his work. "Whatever else, that's between you and Bulma. It's not my business, nor do I have any interest in talking about this."

"Huh. That's all? Are you _sure_?"

"Are you _nagging_ me?"

"You have more experience with this!"

"No, I don't!" Tyber bursts, his voice taking on that high pitch when his stress peaked. "I've only ever been with _one_ person, for fuck's sake!" He takes a breath, there's a wheeze inherent. "Fine. If you're _really_ going to push it instead of just _fucking talking to Bulma about it—_ there's being dominant and submissive, okay? And there's switching those roles as you see fit. So even if you can't control your body's _reaction_ exactly, you _can_ control how sex goes." Tyber slumps over his desk, grumbling curses and alien words to himself.

It occurs to Vegeta that he could take the opportunity to taunt Tyber, but figures he's likely heard enough from Nappa about it…and he already has quite a lot to think about. Tyber almost spoke too fast for him to catch it in his haste to answer, presumably to get Vegeta _out_ of his room and away from him.

He might ask Tyber again if he has another question related to that. If only for the fact that it amuses him how much the man loathes him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta has more questions but for less people. He's an asshole, as we all know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter update because, I don't know. I might revisit "Vegeta asks too many questions" again sometime but for now it's only other extras that are coming to me.

#  The (Second) Time Vegeta Asked Too Many Questions

 

 

It took another few days before Vegeta realized he had more questions he couldn't answer by his own observation. He tried, of course, he spent his time not training watching his brother busy himself around the compound.

 He tried, he _tries_ until he finds he can no longer stand just staying _silent_.

 "Are you even interested in women?" he asks while Tarble is distracted with working on some manner of vehicle for Dr. Briefs. "Or…" Vegeta considers again. " _Any_ gender?"

 He hadn't given much thought to how he felt about the idea of Tarble being…interested in relations with _anyone_ really, let alone the possibility of a gender besides female. He's not _invested_ , really, it doesn't affect him _what_ Tarble does or…who he does. Ugh.

There's a clunk of Tarble dropping a tool somewhere, he spies the younger prince's tail bristling as it reaches out to retrieve something from under the vehicle. "I've…I've not thought about it, brother," he answers after a moment, still not emerging from beneath his project to face him.

"Not even with the Heran women?" Vegeta prompts. After all, from what he has seen of the nomads on Vanishing Point, there was no shortage of eligible females, and they were biologically compatible with Saiyans.

The look Tarble gives him when he pulls himself out from under the vehicle is one of absolute disgust, like Vegeta said something insultingly vile. Is that a sign that Tarble doesn't have thoughts of sullying his royal blood? He wonders this and, for a brief moment, is pleased with his brother's sense of pride.

This moment is ruined when Tarble spits out, "I was _raised_ with them, Vegeta. I know it doesn't count to you since we don't share blood or species, but they're my _family_."

He isn't wrong, the Herans don't count as kin to Tarble at all in Vegeta's mind, all vague feelings of jealousy aside on his part, he won't argue as he is more relieved at the declaration. The half-breeds Tyber made are enough of an abomination, the universe doesn't need _more_ half-breeds.

"I am asking," Vegeta forges on with the topic despite Tarble being genuinely irritated with him, "Because of that demon."

The creature from the depths of the underworld that looked at Tarble with a fond affection that very much alarmed him. Fortunately, the mention of _her_ seems to relax the younger Saiyan as he only sighs in return. "It wasn't like that, she wanted to eat me. That's all. And I enjoyed _nothing_ about her attentions, all right?"

"Good," Vegeta can't help but reply smarmily.

Tarble stares at him with a raised eyebrow, there's a streak of oil across his face that Vegeta notices at the last minute before he disappears under the vehicle again. "I haven't thought about it," his voice comes out slightly muffled. "Thinking about it now, I don't feel any interest in it."

_Good,_ he thinks, more relieved than he should be that he doesn't have to concern himself with scrutinizing suitors. Strange, he wonders if Tarble thinks about what life might have been like if the planet remained intact as well. It's an unusual thought, he wouldn't have been treated with fairness either way, Vegeta dislikes the feelings of relief that come with the idea of _this_ life being better.

"In a way," Tarble adds, a spark coming up from the guts of machinery. "I believe that if there's someone out there for me, I'll know when I meet them."

Ah, of course, naïve as always—Vegeta rolls his eyes. "You believe in _fairy tales_ like that?" he snorts.

"I know, how cliché, a disgraced banished prince believing in true love."

_Love_ —that word again. He doesn't acknowledge it, doesn't pretend to understand the word, doesn't engage it any further. "Why don't you stay on Earth?" he asks to divert the topic, gesturing to the project though Tarble can't see him. "I've looked up the information about it, the Frieza Force estimated the value of this planet well below anything worthwhile. It wouldn't be visited, let alone purged."

Most aliens didn't even _know_ about Earth, the odd hostile lifeforms aside. Earth might be backwards and isolated, Tarble staying here made much more sense to him. "You seem to favor this tech work, or at least working on vehicles."

"I have always enjoyed working on ships and the like, yes," he only answers part of Vegeta's statement, feeling out the space to his left with blind reach looking for something. "And Dr. Briefs has been teaching me quite a lot about Earth vehicles."

"…So, then?" Vegeta impatiently queries. "Stay here!"

Broly could stay too if Tarble was concerned with being lonely. The invisible planet they live on currently has _some_ culture, he supposes, but it is in no way enriching enough. At least Earth has _some_ appeal.

"Perhaps. I'll think about it," Tarble responds, making no attempt to inject his usual positivity or to _face_ Vegeta.

It's bothersome how Vegeta feels _he_ might have overstepped boundaries, _might_ have been just a tad out of line. He despises feeling like that.

 

* * *

 

The lesser male asks _him_ something before Vegeta can think to put _anything_ into words. It's idiotic, of course, as expected from _Yamcha_.

"Hey, man, how old are you?"

_Age. Dates._ Other lifeforms have an inexplicable fixation on remembering such things and creating a load of messy _celebrations_ in response. "21, I _think_ ," he grunts back. Of course _he_ doesn't keep track! It doesn't matter! Nappa only makes a _thing_ out of it specifically to piss him off _and_ have an excuse to drink, the _oaf_.

"Oh, yeah?" Yamcha is either pretending or is truly interested in the answer, both scenarios irritate Vegeta in an already unwanted conversation. "No offense, man, you seem a lot older!" the weakling laughs, making some self-conscious faux humble gesture.

"Full offense, I don't give a _shit_ what you think," Vegeta snarls.

"Full offense?" Yamcha echoes back with an annoying grin. "You picked that up from Bulma, huh?"

He did, Bulma has a certain way of speaking that aggravates him with her use of Earth nomenclature, at the same time he finds himself noting down _some_ of her quirks for practicality's sake. He hates the phrase "no offense" anyway, it's insincere as hell. "My business with her is not _your_ business."

Come to think of it, Vegeta has _so_ many questions about Yamcha—most of it centers on _why_. Why did he squander his time with Bulma so foolishly, why did he say something like Vegeta being _crazy_ about Bulma? He's done no harm to her! Nothing that constitutes being _crazy_ , what does that even _mean_?!

"Well…no, it's not," the weakling chuckles. "I guess…"

Vegeta growls, growing impatient with the floundering and nonsense. "I don't understand you, you claimed to be Bulma's _boyfriend_ all these years—but you rejected any requests to be closer, why?"

Yamcha, caught off-guard, gapes for a moment. "Uh…you mean why didn't I sleep with Bulma?"

"No, _I_ sleep with Bulma," Vegeta says, "I mean why didn't you have sex with her?"

He's aware of what Yamcha meant, but he's not going to beat around the bush. Yamcha blushes furiously in reaction. "Wh-what! That's what I _meant_ , man!"

Vegeta continues on: "Why! It doesn't make any sense!"

"Come on…" he stammers, gripping his arms like he's trying to warm himself. "Of course I know it's dumb to turn down a girl like Bulma, most guys woulda killed to be in my position. I just don't…I don't believe in doing that before marriage, y'know?"

No, he _didn't_ know, what the hell did marriage have to do with it? It's so sickeningly sentimental that Vegeta fears he might throw up. "Why? Will you explode if you do?"

"N-no, it's just…it's something special, you know? It's gotta be with _the one_ , you know?"

_Ugh_. Vegeta rolls his eyes. "No, I _don't_ know what you mean. It's only a natural impulse, there's nothing _significant_ about it."

"I guess that's your opinion," Yamcha mutters.

His opinion that's _correct_ , fucking sentimental idiots. It's just a thing that people do, so what? Attaching any particular meaning or significance to it sounds like an excuse to him.

"But when you find that special girl, you gotta treat her _right_ , you know, man?"

"So, is that why you mistreated Bulma? Because she wasn't _the special girl_?"

It didn't make sense to him at all. The more the lesser male tries to explain it, the less Vegeta understands. He talks something about _traditions_ and _settling down_ , it all sounds like a total bore and Vegeta doesn't bother with hiding how it bores him. "And why do you object to Bulma fighting?"

"S-seriously, dude?! She's a girl!"

"What does her gender have to do with it?"  _And don't call me **dude**. What is even a dude?_

He's killed all types of people, fought all kinds of warriors, what does gender really matter in the end? He doesn't mind telling Yamcha this openly, who grows more and more pale as he speaks. "What's the matter?" Vegeta asks snidely. "Did Bulma not tell you what I _do_?"

Yamcha quickly excuses himself from the room.

_Hmph. Coward._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Vegeta was never allowed to be in a room with Yamcha without supervision again.


End file.
